It's Always Sunny in the Mojave
by DocHoliday0316
Summary: Everyone in the Mojave has a story to tell, and Daniel J. Marston has plenty of them. A series of one-shots revolving around the adventures of Courier Six and his friends in the Mojave. Serves as a companion piece to Into the Great Wide Open.


**It's Always Sunny in the Mojave Chapter 1: Happy Trails, Benny!**

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own _Fallout: New Vegas._ It is owned by Bethesda Softworks and Obsidian Entertainment.

* * *

[The Tops Casino, The Strip, New Vegas, Mojave Wasteland]

The smooth sounds of Frank Sinatra echoed through the stereo system of the Tops, mixing in with the sounds of people gambling or meandering about. The entrance opened and in stepped a group of four people and one eyebot. At the head of the group was the courier for the Mojave Express, and de facto leader of the group, Daniel J. Marston. His four companions were people he had meet during his travels and convinced them to travel with him. The first was Rose of Sharon Cassidy (called Cass for short), the former proprietor of the now-defunct Cassidy Caravans. The next was Craig Boone, a former sniper for the NCR 1st Recon. Then there was Veronica Santangelo, a scribe for the Brotherhood of Steel. The eyebot was simply known as ED-E, who Marston had found broken in the town of Primm, and had then fixed up.

Cass and Boone has decided to wear their regular clothing when coming to the Tops. Marston and Veronica, on the other hand, had decided to dress up for the occasion. Marston wore a dirty brown suit coat with matching slacks, a tannish button-up shirt with a bola tie, and a pair of worn out dress shoes. On top of his head was a ranger grey hat, which he had picked up while exploring Camp Searchlight. Marston managed to get his hands on the suit at a store called Mick & Ralph's, after doing some heavy haggling of course. Veronica, on the other hand, wore a pale-yellow halter dress that had a few stains on it, as long with a set of brown, slingback high heels. The courier had gotten his hands on the dress after doing some work for the Garret siblings, the owners of the _Atomic Wrangler_ , a casino in Freeside. Veronica had nearly jumped for joy when Marston had presented her with the dress. She had always wanted to wear one.

However, the group did not come to the Tops to enjoy gambling or catch a show. At least, not Marston. Marston had come to confront Benny, the man who had ambushed him, stole the package he was delivering, shot him in the head, and left him in a shallow grave outside of the town of Goodsprings. He had spent the past month or so tracking Benny down, following a trail of clues that lead him to the Strip. He had then spent the doing odd jobs to work up the caps to enter the Strip.

A man at the counter then noticed the small group. He wore a simple, grey colored pre-war suit, that only had a bit of grime on it. He let off a smirk as he addressed the courier and his group.

"Hey there, high rollers. Welcome to the Tops Hotel and Casino. I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to hand over any weapons you might be carrying."

"Alright, reasonable enough request," Marston said as he took a revolver off of his belt's holster. It was rather heavy and looked a bit futuristic, taking 5.56mm rounds, a bullet usually reserved for military rifles. He then brought up the bulky, wristwatch-esque device on his left forearm, the Pip Boy, and pressed a few commands into it. The Pip Boy then flashed a brief flash of light, and a small amount of weapons piled up on the counter. Among the weapons were a .357 magnum lever action rifle, a simple hatchet with a rubber handle, a fire ax with a matte black handle and a polished steel head, a 20 gauge double barrel shotgun, an AR-15 service rifle, and a single action revolver that had a black finish with ornate golden engravings and a polished ivory handle inlaid with a clubs symbol. Marston then motioned for his companions to give up their weapons. Cats sighed as she handed over a 20 gauge double barrel shotgun and a military knife. Boone took off a scoped hunting rifle that hanged around his shoulder by a sling, as well as a 9mm pistol. Veronica didn't came to the casino armed, so did nothing. Two men in suits matching the clerk's arrived and took the weapons away. Marston raised an eyebrow at this as he looked back at the clerk.

"Say, where do they take our guns? Just askin' out of curiosity, mind you."

"Relax, they're safe as house. We keep them locked up in the bank upstairs, right next to the money. It's serious protection."

"Hm, alright. You have yourself a nice day, pal," Marston said as he walked away from the counter, with a few men starting to take away the weapons. The courier then let off a smirk as he felt the two weapons hidden on his person. The first was simple, .357 magnum, single action revolver, loaded with hollow point rounds. It was kept in the back on his pants, underneath his shirt. The second weapon was a long, thin knife, which he had hidden up his right sleeve. When he did his planning on the encounter with Benny, Marston knew it would be unwise to come unarmed. Therefore, he had hidden the revolver and knife on himself before heading off to the Tops.

Marston approached his rag-tag group of companions as they began to walk through the casino.

"So you want us to spread out and find Benny, boss," Cass asked as Marston took out a cigarette and lighter from his suit jacket pocket.

"Naw, he shouldn't be hard to find," the courier responded as he light up. "Someone with a taste in fashion like Benny should stick out like a sore thumb. Y'all can just go and enjoy the Tops."

Boone suddenly stopped in his tracks as he heard the courier.

"So you brought us here not to deal with Benny, but so we could enjoy ourselves."

"Mm-hmm. Go on and enjoy yourselves. You deserve after how long it took us to get here."

Veronica pondered the courier's words for a second before nodding in agreement at the courier's words.

"You shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth, Boone. I'm going to go play some black jack. Good luck with finding Benny, Danny."

Veronica left off towards the gambling tables. ED-E turned towards the scribe, before looking back at Marston and letting off a few beeps. He started to follow Veronica. Cass simply shrugged at all of this.

"V's got a point, there. Gonna see what kind of booze the Tops have stocked here."

The caravan boss then left, leaving the courier and NCR sniper by themselves.

"Are you sure about going about this alone?"

"Would you relax? Benny shouldn't be hard to take out. Just need to trap him like the rat he is," Marston reassured as he took a drag on his cigarette.

"Besides, if we aren't all grouped together, we'll be less conspicuous. So go and shoot some craps or somethin', while I'll take care of that snake in the grass."

Marston then left Boone to his own devices as he began to search the casino.

The courier passed the flashing lights and loud noises of slot machines and the roulette tables, where a small metal ball rolled rhythmically against the wheel. His eyes looked through the casino, until he finally spotted who he was looking for.

There were a group of men near the elevators, all of them wearing old pre-War suits, a few them with fedoras. However, one stood out amongst them. He had slick back black hair and a lazy look in his eyes. The most notable thing about him was his suit, which had a checkered pattern jacket, a black tie, and grey slacks. The thing was a complete eyesore.

A memory flashed through Martston's eyes as he looked upon the man who he had been hunting the entire Mojave for.

 _"You've made your last delivery, kid," Benny said as stood over a beaten and bloodied Marston, who lying on the ground, next to a recently dug grave. Next to Benny were two members of the Great Khans gang, one of them holding a shovel. In the gangster's hands was the courier's package, the enigmatic Platinum Chip. Benny pocketed the chip and reached into his jacket, taking out an ornate, engraved pistol._

 _"Sorry you got twisted up in this scene," Benny continued as the courier propped himself up on his elbows. He was too weak to fight back against them, and the Great Khans had disarmed him of his weapons._

 _"From where you're kneeling, it must seem like an 18-karat run of bad luck."_

 _The gangster took aim at the downed courier, cocking the hammer on his pistol._

 _"But the truth is that the game was rigged from the start."_

 _He fired twice and the bullets struck Marston. Darkness then took him as he collapsed on the ground._

Marston took another drag on his cigarette to calm his nerves at the memory. All that time of walking through the Mojave, following a trail of bread crumbs to New Vegas, doing various favors and odd jobs to earn the caps to enter the Strip, had finally lead to this moment. By the time he had left the Tops, he would have his revenge and would complete his delivery to Robert House.

The courier let his smoke hang in the corner of his mouth as he approached Benny and his goons. As soon as he was a few yards away from him, Benny turned to him, and jumped back slightly, startled by the sudden reappearance of a dead man.

"What in the goddamn…?"

"What's wrong, Benny? It looks like you've seen a ghost," Marston said as he quickly drew his revolver out and point it at the gangster. Benny's men quickly responded as they surrounded the courier and encircled him. Most of them were armed with either 9mm or 10mm pistols, a few of them had .44 magnum revolvers. At least one of them had a sawn off shotgun and another had a 9mm submachine gun. Marston remained unfazed at all of the guns pointing at his head.

"It looks like you need to work on your marksmanship," Marston commented as Benny approached the courier, his men parting to make room for him.

"Hey, I hit I where I was aiming for. You just had spare brains, or you're thick-skulled. Either way, babe, this is great news. I can finally sleep at night, knowing that you didn't take a dirt nap."

Marston continued to train his gun on the gangster as Benny continued.

"What say you and me cash out and go somewhere more private-like. You have any questions, and I'll answer."

The courier raised his eyebrow at Benny's proposition.

"What do you have in mind?"

"I'm thinking the Presidential – the best suite in the joint. Has a full stock bar, nice bed, the works. You deserve the a taste of the VIP life. I'll stay down here for a while, to make things look business-as-usual, then come to you. Like I said, I'll answer any questions you have. So what do you say? Capisce?"

Marston immediately saw through Benny's ploy. Once he got up to the Presidential, Benny would sent his thugs up to pump him full of lead. The courier wasn't born yesterday, and was not about to fall for his trap. He decided to turn things to be more in his favor.

"Hm, sounds like a sweet deal, Benny. I'll take it, but on two conditions: we both go together now, and you'll lose your little entourage."

"Hey, if that's what it takes to win your trust, then that what it takes," Benny said as he suddenly clapped his hands together.

"Alright boys, make yourself scarce. Don't worry, this won't take a minute."

All of Benny's men suddenly lowered their weapons, and backed off, a few of them putting their guns away. Benny then turned to a man in a gray colored suit as Marston lowered his revolver.

"Alright, Swank, frisk him. See if he has anything else hidden on him."

"Got it, Boss," Swank said as he took away Marston's revolver. Marston raised his arms up as Swank began to pat him around his sides, waist, and ankles. He briefly winced uncomfortably as Swank's hands neared his groin. Swank completed his search and turned towards Benny.

"He's clean, boss. There's nothing else on him."

"Good. Now that's taken care of, will you follow me," Benny asked as he lead the courier towards the elevators. He pressed a button and the elevator announced its arrival with a ding as the doors opened up. The two men stepped in and Benny pressed another button.

The ride up to the Presidential suite was quiet and awkward. Neither man spoke to each other, and simply stared at the door. Marston, in the meantime, finished up his cigarette. He dropped the butt to the ground and then grinded it under his heel.

The elevator soon stopped and the door opened up to the Presidential suite. The room was large, with two billiards tables standing in the middle of the room. On the far side of the room was a coffee table that was surrounded by two couches and two arm chairs. On the other side, tucked away in a corner, was the bar that Benny mentioned, with a dirty, dust covered mirror hanging over it. Near the bar was a wall safe. The two walked towards the bar, and Benny went behind. The gangster soon fixed himself a scotch on the rocks, served in a tumbler.

"Pick your poison," Benny said as he sat on one of the bar's benches. Marston went behind the bar and his eyes looked over the various bottles of alcohol, ranging from beer and wine to the hard stuff. He eventually settled on a bottle of tequila, which was a golden color and had the word "Águila" on its label. He picked up his on tumbler, placed three or four ice cubes in it, and poured the liquor into it until it was three quarters of the way full. The courier took a seat at the bar, and took a sip of his drink. His tongue sloshed over the liquor as he began to take in its flavor. It had a smooth yet bold taste, and was also a bit smoky as well.

"Hm, a lot stronger than the stuff that I usually make," he commented as he took another sip of his drink. Benny simply took another sip of his before he turned towards the courier.

"Now that the two of us have a bit of privacy, I gotta ask – how are you still living?"

"Let's just say that I'm lucky, and leave it at that."

"Now tell me this: once you vertical, how'd you track me down?"

"I'm pretty persistent. It's in my job description, after all," Marston said as Benny another sip of his scotch.

"Well, guess that's enough scratching round at first base. So tell me, babe: which way is the wind going to blow?"

"It's simple, really: gonna kill you here, finish my drink, and then go play a few hands of poker. I've got you right where I want you."

"You've got the drop on me, babe, that's for sure. If you came here to kill, then this would be the perfect time."

Benny then shifted himself so that his body was facing the courier, with his left arm on the bar table.

"But babe, you'd be disappointing me. You went through all that trouble to arrange this little shin-dig? There's gotta be something you're after."

Marston took another drink of his tequila as he pondered Benny's question.

"Hm, you have a point there. So sate my curiosity: what's so special about this platinum chip?"

"It's House's edge, babe. And by that, I mean literally. It's what he needs to stake the odds in his favor. It's some sort of data storage device, dig? The data on the chip is what's platinum, not the chip itself. The trouble is, it don't fit any computer or terminal that I know of. Must require special hardware."

"So what kind of data are we talking about here," Marston asked as he swirled the ice cubes around in his glass.

"It has something to do with House's Securitrons. It's an upgrade that gives them more firepower and heft. Pretty useful if you want to defend the Strip from Caesar's Legion or the NCR… or maybe both."

Marston took in this information and began to connect the dots. It suddenly made sense why Benny ambushed him for the chip. Whoever had the chip had a way to take control of New Vegas itself. Marston placed his tumbler on the bar countertop before turning his head towards Benny.

"Or it be pretty useful in helping someone overthrow House and take over the Strip."

Benny chuckled at the courier as a lazy looking smirk appeared on his face.

"Figured it out, didn't ya? Sure, I was good with House. He was a cool cat 'til he stopped mewing. I saw the chip as my ticket to the Top. With it, House would be history, and the Chairmen would be in charge, with yours truly as head honcho. After I'd take care of House, I'd make the Omertas and the White Glove fall in line and dance to my tune. When the NCR and Legion make their moves, I'll knock them both down. After all that, it's smooth sailing. And I can even cut you in on the deal, babe."

Marston blinked as Benny began to elaborate on what he was saying.

"Come on, join up with me, babe. Once every faction that's gunning for Vegas is gone, we'll be living on easy street. I can set up you and your pals somewhere nice. I can give you caps, booze, chems, dames, anything you want. So what do you day, babe?"

Marston's grip on his glass tightened as he looked towards the gangster. His blue eyes, which were usually warm and bright, were now icy and piercing as he glared at Benny. His face was set in a frown, and his body radiated with anger. He took in a deep breath to calm himself as he gave Benny his answer.

"It'll be a cold day in hell when I join with a sleazy, back-stabbin', rotten sack of Brahmin shit like you."

"Too bad, babe. You could've had it good. Now you're just another loose end to take care of."

With that Benny reached into his suit and brought out his custom pistol, Maria. Marston, on the other hand, reacted quicker. He grabbed Benny by the back of his head and then slammed him down hard onto the bar's countertop. The gangster was momentarily dazed, with his right arm lying on the countertop. With a flick of his wrist, Marston drew out his knife and grasped it in his hand. He then stabbed his knife into Benny's wrist, pinning it to the table.

"FUCK," the gangster yelled in pain as he lost his grip on Maria. Marston took the pistol and then finished up the rest of his tequila. He then stood up and check the load on the pistol, all while talking to Benny.

"You've made a lot of mistakes in your little plan for power, Benny. You didn't dig a deeper grave for me. You didn't make sure that I was truly dead. But you want to know what your biggest mistake was?"

Marston placed Maria in Benny's mouth until the gun's barrel was touching the back of his throat. He looked at the gangster in the face, with his blue eyes boring through Benny's brown.

"You fucked with the wrong courier."

Marston pulled the trigger and ended the gangster's life. The bullet exited through the back of his skull and blood splattered across the wall behind him. Marston took the gun out of Benny's mouth and the gangster's body suddenly collapsed to the floor, his arm still pinned to the bar.

The courier let the moment sink in for him. He had spent the past month or so thinking about this moment, when he got his revenge and capped the bastard who robbed him of his delivery. And that moment had gone and happened in an instant. He honestly expected a bit more from it.

The courier then looked down at Maria in his hands. He had to admit that it was a beautiful looking gun. It had a polished nickel finish with a golden trigger, and the body of the gun had been damascened with floral and ivy details. The grips were mother-of-pearl, and painted on them was the image of the Lady of Guadalupe.

"Have to say, Benny: you may have had an awful taste in fashion, but you had an excellent taste in guns," Marston said as he tucked Maria into the side of his waist, letting his jacket conceal the gun.

"Now, where did you hide my delivery?"

Marston turned his eyes to the wall safe. Yes, it was an obvious place to hide the platinum chip, but it was still worth searching after all. Marston walked over to the safer and took out a small screwdriver and a bobby pin bent at an angle. He placed both items into the safe's lock, and began to turn and pry them at various angles, listening to the inner workings of the lock. He eventually hit a sweet spot, and opened up the safe.

The safe's contents were honestly surprising. He expected that there would be caps or some other sort of currency inside. Instead was a grenade rifle, along with a power fist, a few girly magazines, some NCR dollars, and a 9mm pistol. However, there was one item of interest that caught the courier's interest. He reached into the safe and pulled it out.

It was a box of cigars. However, these were not just any cigars, they were San Francisco Sunlights, a particular brand that were hard to find. Marston mainly stuck to smoking cigarettes because cigars were so rare to find in the Mojave. He placed the box on the bar countertop, took out one of the cigars from it, and placed it in his jacket pocket. Despite the lucky find of the San Francisco Sunlights, the platinum chip was not there.

Marston then looked back at Benny's body. He got down to one knee and began to search through his pockets. He reached into the suit's right pocket, and found himself touching something small and light. He quickly pulled it out and looked at what he found. It was what looked like a poker chip that was silver platinum in color. Engraved on one side of the chip was the logo for the Lucky 38 hotel and casino.

Marston fiddled with the chip in his hands before looking back at Benny's corpse.

"I knew you weren't smart enough to store this somewhere safe."

Marston placed the chip next to the box of cigars before grabbing the bottle of Águila tequila and placing it with his other loot. He then brought up his Pip-Boy and placed a few commands into the device. It briefly scanned the items before emitting a bright flash of light. The items were now gone, safely stored on the Pip-Boy.

With the chip safely stored, Marston removed the knife from Benny's arm and grabbed Benny's body by its arm pits. He began to drag it into the back rooms of the suite. The exit wound on the back of Benny's head bleed out and left a small trail of blood. Marston stopped in his tracks once he reached the master bedroom. He placed Benny's body on the bed before beginning to strip of his suit. Marston never had any intention to wear that ugly and tacky suit. He simply want to take it as a trophy of his victory over the gangster. He'd collected a lot of miscellaneous bits of weapons and clothing from some of his fallen enemies.

Marston finished stripping Benny of his suit, and, after inputting a few commands into his Pip-Boy, stored it away. He then left the body in the bed room and left the Presidential suite. Swank or one of Benny's men would soon discover the body, and by then, Marston and his friends would be long gone.

* * *

[The Aces theater, Tops Casino, The Strip, New Vegas, The Mojave Wasteland]

Cass downed another tumbler full of whiskey as she sat at the bar. Behind her was a stage where a group of performers called the Rad Pack sang some old pre-War song. From what Cass could tell, it was made by some singer named Dean. She didn't know if it was Dean Martin or Dean Domino. She couldn't care less. All she was focued on was her drinks.

The caravan boss let out a sigh of pleasure as placed the empty tumbler on the bar top. The whiskey burned her throat and gave her a pleasurable, warm feeling. But that was what she loved about whiskey. Not only the bars and casinos on the strip stocked the best booze, but the even provided their drinks with ice. This was a rarity in the Wastes, and you couldn't get cold drinks at some run of the mill saloon. Cass soon got the attention of the bartender as she rattled her glass.

"Give me another."

"Don't you think you've had enough for now?"

"Listen pal, there's two kinds of people in the world. Those who pour, and those who drink. You're the former, and I'm the latter. Do you understand? So give me another."

The bartender simply shrugged as he refilled Cass's glass with whiskey. Cass took another sip as she felt someone sitting down next to her.

"Give me a tequila on the rocks with splash of tonic in it. I'm feeling special tonight," the newcomer said. Cass turned her head to see who was her new bar mate. To her surprise, it was Marston, still clade in his familiar brown hat and gambler suit. Instead of his usual cigarette, he was smoking a cigar. The courier took another puff on it as he leaned on the bar top. The bartender handed him his drink.

"Much obliged," the courier said as he paid for his drink. He held his cigar in his hand as he took a sip of his drink. Cass simply smirked at her friend and employer.

"So I'm guessing your business with Benny went well?"

"You could say that. Nobody here will be hearing from Benny again. They'll probably find out what happened in a few hours or so."

"Y'know, I'd ice that fucker myself for what's done and for wearing that eyesore he calls a suit. But hell, you deserve your revenge, and at least he's dead."

Both of them took another pull on their drinks before talking again.

"Did you find your delivery?"

Marston nodded as he pressed a button on his Pip-Boy and the platinum chip materialized in his hands. Cass stared at the chip with interest.

"It's funny that a pretty little thing like that has caused so much trouble. You're gonna give it to House?"

"Yup, but he's going to have to compensate me _a lot_ for the trouble I've went through to get him his damn chip."

"So are you going to deliver it to him now or later?"

"He'll get it soon. Right now, I wanna find a bit more work to recover the caps I spent to get into the Strip. I also need get some new equipment and stock up on munitions. My payment from House could cover most of it. I guess the McGarretts might have a few more jobs that need to be done, asides from recuritin' prostitutes."

Cass smirked to herself as she finished her whiskey and the bar tender refilled her glass.

"I might know few places for work. You ever heard of the Thorn?"

Marston turned in his set as he looked at his friend."

"I'm all ears, Cass."

* * *

 **A/N:** And welcome to the beginning of another of my fics, _It's Always Sunny in the Mojave._

I'm sorry for not updating any of my other fics in the past few months. I've been going through a really crappy time of my life since November. I've been disqualified from Ball State, and I'm still living in Muncie, taking classes at Ivy Tech in hopes of getting back into Ball State in the fall. I'm also working a crappy job at a pizzeria where my boss doesn't give me a schedule at the beginning of the week. I honestly plan to leave once something better comes along.

But enough about my life, let's talk about this fic. I honestly wanted to do a side story or companion piece to my Fallout: New Vegas/RWBY fic, _Into the Great Wide Open_. Basically, each chapter of this fic will explore one of the many adventures that Daniel Marston had in the Mojave prior to the events of _Open_. Because of that, you do not need to read _Open_ to understand or enjoy this fic. I have more plans for some future chapters for this fic, and I'll update once inspiration hits me.

I should also note that I am posting this on my birthday. So consider this my gift to my readers and followers.

Anyway, please leave a review, since I appreciate feedback, as well as fave or follow if you like it. I hope you enjoy this fic, as well as my other ones.


End file.
